How to Use Flint
by Anteaterina
Summary: [Lizeroth III][LexaeusxZexion] Ienzo had never cared about the new disciple, but he goes to him anyway, out in the snow, sitting under a tree. [RR, CC]


**How to Use Flint**

In this oneshot I tried to mimick and draw from some of the styles of fanfic authors that I really admire. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own no rights pertaining to the Kingdom Hearts Franchise.

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**I**enzo held little interest in snow due to his familiarity with the color white. White coats, white gloves, white walls, solutions and powders and concoctions, the 'clink clink' of test tubes and the 'tap tap' of keyboards; they were all as much an intrinsic part of his life as eating cooked meals every evening. However, Ansem had locked the labs and computers before his trip, and so Ienzo was forced to retreat to the library instead. His eyes followed the snowflakes through the window like grains of sand in a slow and interminable hourglass. 

The others were antsy as well. Xehanort, one of the most studious of the young disciples, had a stack of used books growing next to his chair in a disorganized pile. Braig was literally scaling the walls, using the shelves for awkward footing as he reached for the farthest shelf. Even wagged his finger and scowled menacingly as he watched from below. Dilan had gone to the restroom and never returned, and his absence was barely noted. Elaeus was missing from the scene as well; the others were just as indifferent.

Ienzo pressed his face to the glass and caught a fleeting quiver of movement from behind the tree; it's long, boney limbs partially obstructing the window's view. His head nodded wearily as some time passed, resuming its casual rest in his hands when the scene went back to its former placidity. His eyes observed the small flakes individually like before; one, two, four, seven, nine fell gently down before the snowfall slowed to a halt. All that was left was a dead, eerie blanket of white melting into the fog. Ienzo sighed. Nothing responded.

And then the figure emerged from the lower left corner of the window; it was a boy eyeing the castle with mute interest. He was clothed appropriately and clutching a book in one arm, the other hanging naturally at his side. Ienzo stared fixedly, but Elaeus remained indifferent to his presence and continued to glance at his surroundings offhandedly. Ienzo scoffed and narrowed his eyes, keeping them still on the other boy with an intense fixation, but nothing notable happened. Ienzo didn't find the reaction, or lack of one, particularly surprising; he decided to revel in the thrill of observing Elaeus in his natural habitat, so to speak, without the usual social restrictions.

Elaeus' stoic countenance and rigid formality were fairly new characteristics in a peer for Ienzo; he was more accustomed to characters like Even and Braig with their self identifying eccentricities. It couldn't be helped that what drew the most attention was the other boy's physical appearance, since all the scholars Ienzo had met had never been so exaggeratedly muscular. His perceptions of others so far had held fast to their stereotypes; intellectuals like himself were wiry and lean, and relied on their refinement and wisdom to maintain intimidation among their colleagues. The farmers and simple folk that Ienzo had grown up with were tanned and well built, with strong and menacing arms grown from their passionate focus on labor.

Elaeus' appearance was modeled after the latter; he looked as though he was built with stacked stones and a square chiseled head balanced on top. His entire body moved as if flimsy wires held him together, and if he moved too lithely something would give and his entire body might collapse into a heap of rocks. In spite of his square and resolute figure, Elaeus still managed to work extremely well with a variety of manual labor, and was assigned many tasks that strained the others' physical efforts, along with some that didn't.

Ienzo, on the other end of the spectrum, was lanky and unbalanced, with the eyes and demeanor of an aged scholar. Back home, he had never quite suited his surroundings; he had a penchant for hiding in old crevices under the house with a book to avoid the daily humdrum tasks of rural life. There were no tender, heartfelt goodbyes between Ienzo and his family when he finally departed to become one of Ansem's students.

Elaeus and Ienzo's obvious outward differences had alienated the two from each other, as they usually do when concerning people their age. Ienzo was fairly taken aback at Elaeus' dedication to his studies, which contrasted with Ienzo's initial categorizing of him, but they still had yet to move a casual conversation beyond opening formalities.

Ienzo kept this in mind as he tucked the scarf under his chin, tentatively taking his first step into the undisturbed snow. He surveyed this new environment, wary of the serene and unperturbed calm that saturated the air. His exposed skin was already sore from the icy air, and though some reddening was to be anticipated, Ienzo hoped that his dignity wouldn't be demeaned by his rosy cheeks.

Elaeus raised his head with mild alarm. Ienzo rested one hand on the textured trunk, keeping close to the base of the tree where the snow didn't reach. His shoes were more dampened by the snow than he had predicted, and it was only a matter of time before the clouds overhead let loose another batch to cover his footsteps. Ienzo frowned indignantly; Elaeus was sitting cross legged on the ground, and yet with only a small tilt of his head his eyes could meet Ienzo's more or less levelly.

"Hello." Elaeus spoke first, leisurely closing the book in his lap. There was a pause. Ienzo shifted his weight uneasily.

"What are you reading?"

Ienzo figured that Elaeus must think he was being driven to the edge by boredom. There was no other explanation for why Ienzo would go outside, into the harsh winter cold that he detested so much, to converse with someone who was barely an acquaintance. Elaeus had to have deduced enough of Ienzo's behavioral patterns by now to notice how odd it was for this awkward conversation to have started at all.

If he felt as unfitted to the current state of affairs as Ienzo, Elaeus displayed no outward sign.

"Nothing important. It's science fiction."

Ienzo stood still, slumping under the weight of the awkward silence. He hated science fiction. Just one more difference to widen the chasm between them.

"You can sit down, if you like." Elaeus' grave countenance was disconcerting, but his gesture as he patted the dry grass next to him was unusually welcoming. Ienzo found he had no choice but to take up the offer.

They sat quietly for a few minutes; Ienzo stared ahead blankly while Elaeus resumed his reading. Ienzo refused to relax, pulling his knees up close and blowing softly into his bare pink hands. He rubbed his legs vehemently, then his arms, then his legs again, and then he tightened his scarf.

"You can go inside if you want." Ienzo glared in response to the suggestion, but Elaeus still kept his eyes fixed firmly on the book. The snow started falling again, but was more sparse and delicate than before. Now that he was feeling especially obstinate, Ienzo rejected returning indoors despite having every reason to do so.

Ienzo leaned sideways slightly, looking at the pages Elaeus was currently drawn into; the book was kept at a low level in his lap, as if he was expecting someone else to join. The book wasn't very old, and the pages still had that gleam which had all but vanished from the worn, yellow pages of the books Ienzo had a penchant for choosing. There was a conversation between a captain and a crew member on some sort of interplanetary vehicle, and Ienzo found himself becoming increasingly lost between all the unfamiliar names that were mentioned.

Time passed, more time passed, and the snowfall started and stopped repeatedly along the way. The time was irrelevant, and now the only reality was the book and its words. Ienzo was intent, his face somber, as his eyes flitted back and forth fervently as they traveled across the page. There was a gigantic battle being waged, the fate of the planet was hinging on its success, and so he was unconscious to his own physical position; his hands rested eagerly on Elaeus' thigh and his head almost fully obstructed the other boy's view. If Ienzo remained completely unresponsive to the outside world, Elaeus did not, and he was fully aware of the violent shivering that overtook the boy currently invading his lap.

There was a sudden shock that rang through Ienzo as he was pulled back off the pages. The large and tender arm that was draped around his shoulders had brought his mind back into reality. It radiated a soothing warmth that was almost shocking compared to the cold that was thrumming through the rest of his body. He instinctively pulled away, but the arm remained. It was too large and warm, and there was something off-putting about something so warm being attached to someone so carved and sturdy.

Elaeus was still, his eyes on the book, as if nothing was happening and nothing ever would. Ienzo's expression was skewed with perplexity as he looked up at the stoic face, but the arm was just too gentle and warm; an escape from the bitter environment.

If he had ever been presented with the idea of falling asleep against Elaeus' chest before that day, Ienzo would have merely spared a fleeting look of disdain before leaving.

**---**

**Z**exion pressed his face against the large square chest, feeling the breath radiate through him as it fluctuated in the deep and monotonous pattern of sleep. His body was naked and frail, curled up against the surrounding bare flesh of the other man. There was an ethereal white light from the window that cast a hazy glow around Lexaeus' sleeping form, and Zexion could recall nostalgically the emotions he used to feel whenever he saw that radiance.

He shifted under the weight, wrapping his arms around the other with greedy hands, trying to catch just a sliver of tender warmth, but the frozen stiffness in his bones refused to melt away.


End file.
